


What They Don't See

by SalmonCenter



Series: Jasper and Alice [9]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Blind Character, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:35:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28972194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalmonCenter/pseuds/SalmonCenter
Summary: What if Jasper was blind?
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale
Series: Jasper and Alice [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883479
Kudos: 14





	What They Don't See

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Rae, for a title

Jasper loses his eyesight as a Major, not even having seen battle. It’s some sort of disease that afflicts him while he rides, some curse that makes him cry blood in front of a stunned young nurse who has no more training than the baby that’s being born beside him. He can only hear the newborn scream, and the Doctor gasps, far more interested in the state of his bloody and bruised eyes that have gone spontaneously blind than the new life coming into the room right next to them. Jasper just shivers through the pain and the fear, trying his best to keep his eyes still as the Doctor instructs him, but it does no good in the end. Ultimately, his eyes have to be removed.

It’s been less than ten hours, but Jasper knows he will be discharged, even when he wakes up and they’re moving, being chased by the enemy, still so close to the front lines. He can’t lead anymore. Can’t fight. He’s weak and still half-sedated and _blind_ , so he falls back asleep, skin aching for sunlight. 

The hands that lead him away from the sounds of the dying are ice-cold and wet with what smells like blood, tastes like blood. Behind him, there are cries and whimpers of those so close to death. The sounds are unlike anything he’s ever heard, except for one other occasion. Jasper is reminded of a time when he had been so, so young, when a girl had been burned so extensively, when they had all been called to bring ice from their wood boxes, and when they had all heard her prayers for mercy. He tries to dig in his heels, to reach for the nurses who have tended to him during his short illness, to help them in any way he can. He can shield them, if all else fails. He’s tall. He has a body to spare, a body to give. The ice-cold hands seem to have the same idea. 

Jasper crawls through Hell, unsure of which way to go. He feels bodies around himself, sometimes following, sometimes being followed. A demon- Something evil- Something ice-cold and soothing strokes his burning skin and he snaps at it. He’s rewarded with a swipe at his face, the very first scar that adorns his new skin. He catches the hand that has cut him midair, following it through the wind in the air, and he hisses at the others who surround him. The dangerous hand strokes his face again and leads him to a comfortable room, drips sweet blood down his throat, and whispers sweet words into his sensitive ears. Maria introduces him to power, to awareness, to emotion and the world around him without sight. 

Jasper meets his soldiers, those who are patchwork, born without limbs, surviving without ears, skin, tongues, and sense. Some have gifts, some don’t. They don’t have time to segregate. Either you survive battle, or you don’t. They offer help where help is needed, and burn the ones that don’t survive. A boy, born under a half-moon, who dances rhythmically to the heartbeat of rabbits, doesn’t understand the words that Jasper speaks, so he guides the man with emotion, directing him in and out of harm's way with fear and joy. There’s a young woman who they take from a building with white hair and white skin and red eyes, but she’s human when they find her. She has fits even after she’s turned, and she makes a lethal fighter. Hand to hand combat is her strength. There are those who lose their limbs in their second life and continue on, and those who seek out replacement parts. 

Jasper can smell everything he needs to see. He can smell blood on the ground from miles away, he can track reliably for days, he can tell day from night and even guess the seasons with frightening accuracy. He knows the scent of each of his soldiers, each of his friends, each of his superiors. He knows which flowers the humans eat and which flowers they die beside. He knows the smell of an injured human, a strong human, and a dead one. 

Jasper can hear everything he needs to see. He knows exactly where he is in space, where he is in a room, and where everything else is at any given time, as long as there’s just enough noise. He can hear movement with such precision that he’s lethal on the battlefield and competent enough to hunt alone, quick enough to train the newborns and keep them from killing each other without reason. He doesn’t need to be told anything twice, but doesn’t mind commanding more than once. Patience is important around newborns, though lenience is deadly. He uses his voice to instruct, to guide, to intimidate, and, in the rarest of cases, to comfort. 

Jasper can feel everything he needs to see. He feels the dirt between his toes and uses the sensation to guide himself back to base camp. He knows which divots on a newborn are the ones that, with enough pressure, will snap their spines in two. His fingers are adept at recognizing delicate flowers, rough metals, and warm animals. Even now, Jasper’s rough hands are so gentle trailing up and down her delicate arms, exploring her expanse of smooth skin. She allows him, encourages him, imitates him.

They explore each other together in a safe room, in a safe city, in a safe state, safe together. Japer isn’t on edge, and Alice is thrilled to have found him, so Jasper is thrilled to have found her. 

“What’s this?” Jasper murmurs, fingers skimming over a collection of stones around her neck. 

“A necklace. I stole it, sort of. Do you like it?” Alice giggles, and Jasper can hear her smile so clearly. She guides his hands to the clasp behind her neck but his hands end up in her hair instead, exploring her scalp, mapping out her body.

“It’s short. I like it.” Jasper nods, running his fingers through her short, jagged curls. Alice’s hands have ended up under his shirt, tracing the scars from his past. She gasps when he finds one that’s particularly big, particularly thick and violent, and Jasper can’t help but gasp too. When Alice’s mouth is so wide, when she’s even the tiniest bit frightened, her mouth fills with sweet venom, and Jasper can’t help but come close to her face, so close that Alice only has to move a centimeter to complete the kiss, and she does.

And Jasper feels something he doesn’t need to see.


End file.
